Shadows Hide From Light
by AliCloud
Summary: ... even when it shows the truth. Oneshot. slightly AU Basically Alex if he'd been forced to stay a spy.


_AN: Okay, this is my first one shot ever, so I don't know how it will be accepted. _

_IMPORTANT STUFF: THIS STORY IS BASED ON THE IDEA OF ALEX SOMEHOW BEING FORCED TO STAY WITH MI6 AND IS STAYING AT BB. IT'S BEEN ABOUT 3 YEARS SINCE THE EVENTS OF SCORPIA RISING._

_Reviews are very highly appreciated, with virtual cookies freshly baked for all who tell me what they think through constructive criticism._

_This could become a two shot if I get enough feedback. It's all up to you guys._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise._

* * *

><p><em><strong>THE THOUGHTS OF DOG, (a surprisingly perceptive SAS Soldier) M Unit's Medic.<strong>_

There is a shadow in Block B that bears no will. The old timers say it's a dark past desperately holding onto a life without cause or reason. It's a soul lost forever in a sea of uncertainty, doomed to live in a world where it will never belong. Some even go so far as to say The Shadow is a demon sent to punish us all and test us to our limits. Others will tell you it's our greatest weapon against terrorism.

With cold, dark eyes the Shadow haunts our training compound, searching, searching for a reason or a meaning. It flits from Unit to Unit, never staying longer then it takes to show how much more advanced the Shadow is. It holds the record for every class; doesn't even seem to try as we throw punches and it blocks. The recruits fear it, veterans tell the legend of it and we all just try to keep the heck out of its way. Because the Shadow is cold, unfeeling and unforgiving and saying it is a weapon and a tool to be used is a stark reality.

One we all try to ignore.

The Shadow is emotionless; the blank expression its face wears is not a mask but a window into its mind. It simply doesn't care about anything, moving through procedures with deadly accuracy but no drive, not speaking unless spoken to, its voice a whisper softer than the evening breeze. Every word is spoken clearly, with a precision that only comes from years of choosing words carefully. That voice is etched into our memory, sending shivers through our spines with each recount.

It doesn't talk often; people don't speak to it as a rule. They don't want to be reminded of what the shadow represents, what happened through our words and actions.

We often wonder about the enigmatic wraith and its past. None of us really know anything for sure of course but it's nice to talk and share ideas – not gossip, there's nothing manly about gossip – about how something like the Shadow got messed up in all this war and uncertainty. Surely it wasn't always so cold, we say. It must have had friends, a family at one point. No one gets born with eyes like the Shadow's. It's not natural.

Although it's blatantly obvious no one watches out for it now, there are signs that the Shadow was once cared for. We've spent many a night around the campfire on assignment debating who the red haired woman in the frayed photograph it keeps is. We say it's too young to be its mother and the girl looks nothing like the Shadow. Maybe a cousin, She's too old to be a sibling. She could just be a family friend.

One thing we all agree on though, is that whoever she was, she's not around to care for the Shadow anymore. No one seems to be.

Sometimes the Shadow disappears. There's no warning, no explanation, the phantom simply vanishes. We laugh, saying maybe it has family - a rich dad and a housewife mom - but no one really believes it. No one with a family turns into a shell like the Shadow. No one with any hope in a better future bears the pain and suffering shown in its eyes. The Shadow is broken too deep, in places that can never be repaired.

Sometimes I wonder if it would ever survive out in the civilian world. How could something so tarnished ever go back to being normal? Then you have to ask the question of whether it was ever normal in the first place.

Eventually, just when we all begin to wonder if it will ever return, the Shadow is suddenly back, slinking and darting through our classes like it had never left. It will be sporting a black eye or a new burn now, sometimes even a broken arm or cracked rib, but of course we pretend not to notice, we try not to notice.

Though sometimes it's impossible to not see the red blood soaking through the heavy bandages all along his arm and we wince because we _know_ it was bad this time and somehow nothing's changed and we never know if the next disappearance will be permanent. Maybe next time the Shadow will just cease to exist.

And right there is the problem; would it even be Brecon Beacons without the Shadow skulking between buildings? He– _it_ has always just been there, from the very beginning, 3 or so years ago now, when we were just recruits, the Shadow has been a part of our work. When the sergeant showed us around on our first day, (_"Right, dormitories are over there, that's the Mess Hall and the beauty over there is the obstacle course… And, ah, that's Cub, he's always here. Do your best to ignore him…"_) The Shadow has been a part of the scenery that we notice just enough for us to form a dislike for it.

It would just be weird if it disappeared… but everyone recognises it's entirely possible.

Officially, none of us are _aware _of the Shadow's involvement with SO, but unofficially, all of us know he- _it,_ is their _secret_ _weapon_. It's really not that much of a secret when organised crime is down 45% in the last 3 years and every criminal with any kind of intelligence knows the Shadow's name. I think it scares them half to death; an experienced warrior in a boy's body destroying powerful organisations single-handedly in weeks. They say the Shadow is undefeated, it's never failed a mission and it decimates anyone set against it.

I didn't believe any of that until Bear caught the Shadow talking to the MI6 deputy head.

Now, we make sure never to talk about those aspects of Cub around the campfire, who knows who's listening?

The worst thing though, is that at the end of the day, no one is really shocked. Cub is just another victim in a long line of people used for 'the greater good'. We all have some idea of what's happened but, to be honest, it's safer to turn a blind eye. What we don't know can't hurt us, what we don't see can't haunt us. The Shadow is perfectly capable of looking out for itself – _Himself._ Cub probably wouldn't even want our help.

But despite all these reasons I can't help but look into those soulless eyes and wonder what could have been. You can't help but wonder what was.

At the same time, we're all scared because the truth is, we don't really want to know.

* * *

><p><em>AN: So, yeah, that's it. If you are a lovely person and you want to tell me how I did, then there are some things I need to know, like:<em>

_Spelling/Grammar?_

_Content?_

_Did you like my writing style?_

_I can improve on _._

_Most importantly, DO YOU WANT A SECOND CHAPTER OR A SEQUAL?_

_Review Please!_


End file.
